


The Guardian Angel

by Polara_Winter



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angels, Demons, Guardianstuck, Humanstuck, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 15:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3815653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polara_Winter/pseuds/Polara_Winter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is my first post. </p><p>Please comment; I appriciate constructive criticism comments.</p></blockquote>





	The Guardian Angel

He had enough; this was the last straw. He couldn't do it anymore. His body convulsed as he sobbed. His room was like robbers tore it up for any valuables, but he did this himself.

His name was Kankri Vantas, and he felt like he was just shoved over the edge. Kankri's body shook as he stared at the screen of the computer, the screen cracked, but the screen still on. 

It was a hate blog, it about himself. Pictures of him disfigured and just horrible, nasty rumors underneath. What, oh what has he done wrong for so many people, his peers, to hate him so?

Oh, he remembered now. Fifteen years and fifty weeks ago, Kankri had been born a happy and healthy baby girl, blessed by his great-grandmother to live a happy, prosperous, long life. Almost four months ago, she had realized something wrong with her life, like something wasn't right. He figured it out not long after; he was a transboy, a female with a male's identity. Two weeks ago, he had came out to those closest to him; his father, brother and his closest friend, Porrim Maryam. Despite his status as a strict Catholic pastor, his father accepted him with welcoming arms. His brother's stubbornness and angry streak hid his reaction, but something typed later to him.

_LOOK, ASSHOLE, I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS, BUT SEEING THAT YOU CRIED AS YOU TOLD US, I SEE THAT THIS IS IMPORTANT TO YOU. I WILL ALWAYS SEE YOU AS A FUCKING DIPSHIT WHO TALKS LIKE A DAMN DICTIONARY, BUT I CAN USE MASCULINE SHIT FOR YOU *IF* YOU WANT._

Kankri sobbed as you read this. Porrim, as a best friend would, cares for him too. Now, he feels like they're distant. Kankri stayed in his room during his demise, and shut everyone out completely. The boy with black hair sat up, his shirt off and his arms staring back at him. His scars almost fresh and bandaged. Kankri learned how to stop the blood, and no one knows. No one.

What sat in front of him was one thing; a tall glass of ice water and a bottle of Zolpidem, sleeping medication that helped your brother's insomnia. Kankri stood up and walked to his closet, finding an outfit; a red sweater his father gave him for Christmas, and his nice, black church pants. Slowly, undressed down to his underwear, then dressed into the clothes. His letter was ready on his dresser, and he was ready.

Kankri walked to the bed and sat down to the middle, reaching for bottle and popping the lid off. He sighed and dumped the last of the remaining pills; about eight sat in his hand. Kankri gulped as he put his hand to his open mouth, feeling the pills in his mouth as he swallowed and quickly grabbed the glass of water, putting to his lips and drinking it. 

Kankri finished the glass and set it back to it's place, then laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The boy closed his eyes and let his thoughts dwindle for the last time. 

He faintly smiled as he covered himself up, curling on his side and his emotions away. Kankri was feeling sleepy. He'd take a nap, though. Just a short one. For the first time in a long time, he'd have dreams again instead of nightmares.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first post. 
> 
> Please comment; I appriciate constructive criticism comments.


End file.
